


Flight of the Wolf

by miragoat



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Diplomatic Relations, Hate to Love, I don't know what I'm doing, M/M, cataclysm era, plot probably slow af
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:15:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7949437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miragoat/pseuds/miragoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Gilneas is invaded, Genn travels to Stormwind in the hope of joining the Alliance, but Varian remembers the past and has no intention of making it easy for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sailing Away

It's raining when he boards the ship to Stormwind – an ill omen, he is sure, of things to come. He doesn't mind the rain as it splatters against his face, for it gives him some feeling of normalcy amidst all of the grief and the anger and the hopelessness. The seas are calm, and Genn is able to stand at the edge of the ship without feeling sick to his stomach despite his many years away from the sea. He senses Malfurian somewhere behind him in the way that beasts often do.

“You have nothing to fear,” the elf tells him, but Genn isn't so sure.

“Last time I saw Varian Wrynn, he was little more than a boy rebuilding his city. Now he styles himself King of the Alliance.” He has few memories of Varian Wrynn, and each of them is lukewarm, leaving him no real impression of the man he is supposed to be meeting. It worries him.

“The Alliance is just. They will hear you and make their decision with fairness, of that I am sure. Regardless, your refugees are always welcome in Darnassus.”

The words are meant to be a kind gesture, but they make Genn restless inside. He remembers his father's harsh words about men who cannot take care of their own needs. _Weak. Worthless._ That is how he feels aboard this strange elven vessel with the night elf leader as he seeks out the leader of the Alliance that he had rejected years before. A king should be able to sustain his kingdom. A king should be able to save his son.

“How much longer?” he asks, not because he is particularly impatient, but because he has to keep his mind off of his Liam. Liam, who had died for Gilneas. Liam, his heir, his son, his world.

“Not long now,” Malfurion says. “You can make out the city from here in the light of day.”

“How nice it must be, to have a city that is left untouched despite not having a single wall to fortify it.” He is unable to keep the bitterness below the surface.

“I would remind you that Stormwind City was sacked by orcs within your lifetime and Varian's own father was among the first to perish. This new city is strengthened by the power behind it, not its walls.”

Genn wishes that he could rest; too many long days have been spent traveling and making arrangements for his people, and too many nights have been spent lying awake in fear of dreaming up Liam's death all over again. He is exhausted, but he is not Malfurion, and he simply does not have the liberty to sleep when and where he wishes.

It's nearly dawn when they reach the docks. Malfurion is greeted by all the warmth an ally might expect and more, but his eyes passed over Genn without a word. Was it possible that he wasn't even recognized after being away so long? Genn likes to think that he hasn’t changed much over the years.

They are given a single room inside Stormwind Keep, much to Genn’s outrage. Who does Varian thinks he is to not honor the king of Gilneas with his own room? He is sure that this must be some slight to Malfurion too, but the elf still smiles as he puts his things at the foot of the bed and settles in. He doesn’t like the size of _his_ bed. It’s barely more than a cot.

“No rooms left in the Keep, I guess,” he grumbles. “We’ll share a city _and_ a room.”

“You should contain your temper,” Malfurion says. “Varian will expect to hear a responsible leader. Give him that for the sake of your people.”

He takes a few deep breaths and remembers that he must restrain himself. This is _not_ about his pride. This is about what he must do to provide for his people, even if it means going to Varian, even if it means doing something that he swears is weak. Sometimes, he concedes, a king must be weak. He only wishes that no witnesses were involved, especially royal ones.

“The king is ready to see you,” a guard says from the doorway. This was it: the moment that could save or condemn Genn’s people. _Ready indeed._


	2. No Such Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genn brings his cause to Varian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the content of what was being said this chapter heavily from "Wolfheart". As time goes on, I'll take more liberties.

Varian put little effort into ceremony as Genn and Malfurion were escorted into the throne room by a guard. Little effort was needed. Though unarmored, his muscular form is still impressive, and even if it weren’t, there are half a dozen armed guards in the room who would sacrifice everything to keep him safe. Varian may have been a boy when Genn met him, but it’s clear that he is very much a man now. The scars on his handsome face tell tales of battles he’s survived. He stands behind his throne. He doesn’t need to sit in it to send a clear message: _this is my kingdom, and I am its king._

His blue eyes stay fixed on Malfurion as they drew closer. The night elf holds his head high. “I appreciate your time at such short notice, King Varian. I understand that your duties are numerous, but in the wake of the Cataclysm, I feel that the Alliance must stand together more than ever.”

“You are welcome here, Archdruid. I understand that there are matters that you would like to discuss before the rest of the Alliance is consulted. Coming here was unnecessary, for I will never give my consent to allow Gilneas into the Alliance.”

Genn feels as if he’s been slapped. “Varian, please… let us talk if only for a moment. I only did what I thought was best for my people. If I had known what it would do to us, building the wall that closed us off from the outside, I would have never...”

Varian does not look at him. It only drives Genn further into his declaration.

“If you re-admit us, Gilneas will stand by Stormwind’s side in any way we can. There will never be an ally more true and loyal than your fellow _human_ realm, especially to Stormwind about all others, and none who may come between us when the bond is sealed.”

“Stormwind does not want you at our side! You were never _here_ to take up the mantle to lead the humans, and I only took the responsibility to keep my son safe in a time when no one else stood to do so. Stormwind has succeeded time after time without you. Now you have the nerve to come here in your time of need and proclaim that you would stand with us?”

“Gilneas will stand-”

“Do not waste your time, Genn. You made your choice once. You cannot come here and choose again.”

“We withdrew during a time of peace for reasons that you know well! Please see that we are here now.”

“You do not _withdraw_ from the Alliance at your own pleasure. I will not risk having you when I know that when _my_ time of need comes, you will build another wall and hide away until your hand is forced again. Excuse me, Archdruid.”

Varian is escorted by his guards to the courtyard. Genn has half a mind to follow him, but he lingers at Malfurion’s side. “I will speak to him,” the archdruid says. “He is seeing only the past. He must see reason. Have faith.”

Genn doesn’t tell Malfurion that faith is something he has little of in such troubled times. How he longs for the seclusion of Gilneas, the city he rules only in name. If only his people had the support of Stormwind, then there might be hope. “He is still angry because of our past. I expected that from him, but I had hoped that he would see that I am willing to make amends.”

“He will, given time. Our visit to Stormwind isn’t over just yet. Allow me to talk to him in private.”

 

In the relative solitude of his courtyard, Varian tries to calm his shaking body. Who was Genn Greymane to come to his city asking for anything? Was he really so bold as to think that Varian was weak enough to accept him back? Even with the Cataclysm, Stormwind has plenty of allies. Besides, he hasAnduin to think about, Anduin who could not fight to defend himself, Anduin who is too young yet to know what it takes to be a true king.

Varian knows. Varian has known since he was a boy fleeing his beautiful city before his father’s body was cold. He will never forget, and he won’t compromise that for anyone, especially a coward like Genn Greymane. Let him take back his city and build it brick by brick like Varian has. Let his line bleed for it like Varian’s has.

“King Varian, I would have a word with you.”

“Privacy is not a luxury in my city, Archdruid, even when one such as you is visiting.”

“Please, call me Malfurion.”

“Then I insist you call me Varian.” He can be curt for an ally. Even an ally who wants what he knows is wrong.

“Varian, I urge you to wait before making a final decision about this. The world has changed, and we need all the friends we can find to hold back the Horde and Deathwing and all the other horrors that may find us yet. I know that you were wronged by Gilneas in the past, but consider now the present.”

“I give you my word that I will think long and hard before making a final decision,” Varian says at last. “I hope you know what you are doing. Genn is your responsibility while you are here.”

“Of course.”

“I will afford you everything a royal visitor may expect from Stormwind: a banquet, dancing, fireworks, all of it. I imagine Genn will enjoy himself. He always favored Stormwind when we were without troubles.”

“I’m sure that we’ll both appreciate it. Will we see your Anduin?”

“Naturally,” Varian says as if it is the most natural thing in the world for foreign diplomats to visit his son. _Better you learn now,_ Varian always tells him, _when so little is at risk_. “Take Greymane and prepare for the night’s festivities. I’m not inclined to more talk of negotiation just yet.”

It would be a miracle if Malfurion left him alone until midday, Varian thinks.

 


	3. He's a Sweet Boy

Genn is seated to the left of Varian Wrynn, which seems strange to Genn given their earlier conversation and Malfurion’s presence. To the king’s right is a young, handsome blonde boy clothed in the rich blue of Stormwind. He can only be Anduin Wrynn, the heir of Stormwind and Varian’s only son. He is so unlike what Varian was at that age, lean without the muscular bulk his father possessed, smiling as his father never had. Genn forlornly wonders if his Liam had seemed so different.

Malfurion takes his place at Genn’s left. He is grateful to have the elf close to him, as much as he resented needing anyone at his side at all. Varian doesn’t say a word to either of them, and Genn hopes that it will stay that way. He isn’t ready to spar with Varian just yet, even if it means saving Gilneas. Too much has transpired too soon.

The first course is brought to the head table, and Varian nods his approval at his server. He doesn’t hesitate to grab the fresh vegetables that catch his eye before offering the platter to his son. It’s such a formal gesture, passing the plate around based on rank, and Genn wonders why Varian thinks it necessary. Perhaps things are always this way in Stormwind.

Genn takes the moment as a chance to study Varian. The king is younger than Genn by a significant amount of years, but his is the face of a man now, the strong jaw and steely blue eyes. The scars on his face suit him, Genn supposes, for they are a mark of his bravery, and they give him a rough look that Llane Wrynn never had. There is something about him that leaves men in awe, and Genn is sure that he sees a trace of it now in his features and the way he looks from person to person with his hunter’s eyes, assessing all. His eyes travel to Genn, and he knows that he should look away before he is questioned, but his eyes are glued to Varian.

“Pass the plate to the archdruid,” he says lazily. “See that you pick from it after.”

Genn keeps his rage locked in that deep-inside place where the other half of his nature is hidden. “Of course.”

 _He insults my rank_ , Genn wants to tell Malfurion. _You have seen it yourself. I am a sovereign king of my nation; you co-lead your nation as a spiritual leader only._ Yet when Malfurion smiles at him as he passes the plate, Genn cannot help but feel a twinge of guilt. Malfurion is not his enemy. Malfurion is Varian’s ally, a position he hopes to achieve himself in the near future. Upsetting Varian will not do.

He takes some sliced carrot when the plate is passed to him, grateful to eat for the first time since his arrival. He glances at Varian, who is still staring at the serving plate. “Thank you for sharing the best of your food,” he says. “I didn’t expect such generosity from Stormwind, but I am grateful for it.”

“Stormwind always offers its best to its visitors,” Varian says. “I understand why you might not expect it, having never welcomed guests into your own walls.”

“Father, please.”

“Anduin, you must understand that kings do not forget who they can and cannot trust. Gilneas has proven itself to be an unreliable ally at best, and so we do not indulge them, and we do not fear telling them the hard truth.”

He gives Genn a sympathetic look. “Maybe he’s changed. People _can_ change.”

“Maybe he’s grown a set of wings. I do not care to risk it, and in time Genn will accept that because he has to. In time, even Malfurion will see the sense in this, but we hear his case because he is a valuable ally.”

The soup course drags on in silence, and Genn begins to wonder if there is anything he can say to make Varian Wrynn reconsider his offer. Varian still watches him, assessing whether he is ready to give up just yet. “They took my city,” he said. “They tore it apart until we had no choice but to flee. Surely you can understand, Varian-”

“I took back my own city and saw to its reconstruction. You were there when the construction began, if memory serves, and I don’t recall you lifting a finger to help Stormwind. Why, then, would we deign to help Gilneas?”

“You will give the Forsaken a foothold,” Genn protests. “If they take Gilneas, what will stop them from moving to Khaz Modan and then to Stormwind? Where do you draw the line?”

“The Alliance will be protected,” Varian says. “We have faced greater and more terrible enemies and survived to tell the tale. It must seem strange to you, but I do not fear the Horde. Fear is a weakness of yours, not mine.”

“I can’t listen to any more of this,” Anduin Wrynn says suddenly. “I won’t hear you slander someone who seeks your age, and I won’t hear you cling so stubbornly to the past. Father, Archdruid. King Genn, don’t take my father’s words to heart. His ability to feel compassion is stunted.” With that, Anduin Wrynn rises from his chair and leaves his father to stare at his retreating form.

“He’s a sweet boy,” Genn says.

“Not another word about him,” Varian growls. The beast is awake in his eyes now, threatening to come out and throttle Genn until he is brought to silence.

Genn doesn’t understand the strong reaction to his words at first. What king didn’t want his son to be complimented by other kings? Then it becomes clear to him by Varian’s change in demeaner, the way he glances over his shoulder for traces of his son. “I wasn’t being sarcastic. He will grow to be a fair and compassionate ruler. Stormwind would be proud to have such a king.”

“First you assume that I do not understand what you meant to say, and now you imply that _I_ am not a fair or compassionate ruler. I am, Genn, more than you have ever been. I have given _everything_ for the Alliance. I have given my wife’s life for this city, too steep a price, but I have paid it. You could not even give your pride to do your duty.”

“Varian, please-”

“My son is kind to you because he wasn’t alive to see you abandon us. I remember it well, and unlike my son, I was a king when it happened. I do not forget; I do not forgive. Good night, Genn. Enjoy your first night in Stormwind.”

Varian leaves Genn at the table in stunned silence. Only when Varian Wrynn is involved is it possible for something to go awry so much.


End file.
